


Sex and the Absence of Cuddles

by ballpoint



Category: 1610 - Fandom, Marvel Ultimates
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2011-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:10:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballpoint/pseuds/ballpoint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ultimates; Steve likes to snuggle, but it's embarrassing and stressful enough propositioning Tony for sex, never mind cuddling afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex and the Absence of Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to Marvel and Stan Lee. No profit is being made off this work. The prompt done for the cap_ironman dreamwidth comm.

"Death and taxes, always a constant," Tony'd always say, as he reached for his squat glass tumbler and whatever whiskey of the day Jarvis set on his table. Another constant thankfully - was sex. Still the same, sweaty kind, be it the laughter tinged fumbles with Gail, as she played with his straps and buckles. _Leave it on_ , she'd say. Or Jan with her sly touches in the shades of darkness fifty years later. Still the sweat and heat and touch never changed.

Sex with Tony, well. When they got to it- it was something. He never had to be gentle with Tony. Actually, the rougher it got - the more it turned them both on.

Even though each time they hooked up, Tony insisted on making a Federal case of it, right from the outset.

"When I heard the term 'Gemini' I thought, twins. Comely twins at that," Tony's tone tacked perilously close to mild annoyance, as sections of his armor opened, and his assistants scrambled to get him out of it, toweling down the fluid that kept his body from being jarred and bruised as he flew around in his suit, a butler hovering close by with a dirty martini on a tray.

Steve only tugged at his gloves - now scalded and threadbare. This time, he stopped a rocket, without falling into the sea, and sleeping for another fifty years.

"If you'd come to the briefing Tony, you've have been prepared."

"I only have room for one Carol Danvers," Tony replied, as he shrugged into his robe, as they took the lift from basement to the top floor of the mansion that Tony took over for himself. "A fascinatingly attractive woman, but the only part of girl scout I'm interested in is her-"

"Cookies?" Steve raised his hand in annoyance., trying to head Tony's innuendo off at the pass.

Tony gave an appreciative laugh, before taking a sip from the dainty glass. "You've cracked a joke, and amused me, Steve. Well done." He raised the glass in Steve's direction, a half salute, only for the liquid to slosh across Steve's hand.

Steve let out a half exasperated hiss, as he shook his hand. Not that he disliked alcohol. He liked wine well enough, but Tony's drinks were just too strong, and he made to wipe his hand on his uniform when Tony grabbed his wrist - and absently licked it, a long hot swipe of tongue from finger to wrist.

"What are you- ?" Steve almost choked on the words, the rasp of Tony's tongue and the scrape of stubble an altogether new, and singularly pleasant sensation.

"It's good liquor, even if it's only on your hand, Steve."

And in retrospect, it might have been the smile that set it off. Whatever it was, Steve followed its lead. Tony slammed against the wall, body still slick with the armor fluid, as he stripped Tony's robe off.

His mouth pressed against Tony's, spit and teeth, chased down with the burn of a double dirty martini on breath. Steve's hand pressed against the wall, and he wanted more, only for Tony's hand- fingers splayed, and firm, with the force of his weight behind it- for Steve to stop.

"What?"

"You have to ask me first."

"What?" Steve repeated, senses addled as all the blood in his brain shot south. Not believing, he went in for the kill again, aiming for mouth.

"I'm serious, Steve."

"You mean, like _'mother, may I?'_ "

"If that's your kink," Tony smiled, the distance between Steve and himself an arm's length, yet a continent away. The heat pumping off Tony's body betrayed him, but the lines in his face, still set. "Still, it's always nice to be asked."

What the-? Steve thought, but he wanted to follow and see where this lead. After Jan, and- there'd been no one since Jan- and he'd nurse his regrets in the morning, if it came to that.

"Tony," the words came out in a growl. "May I?"

The smile Tony aimed at Steve was brilliant. "Yes," he said, as Steve's finger hooked in the elastic of his briefs and dragged them down. "You may."

***

 

At the words, Tony and Steve charged at each other, went down on the thick carpet like warring cats. Steve half ripped his uniform off, in oder to press his skin against Tony's. His laughter in his ear, before Tony's mouth and teeth descended on skin. "There's so much of you." Tony nipped at his neck, as Steve's hands slipped and skidded on skin. No talking he wanted to say, as his lips pressed against Tony's one more time. But sex with Tony seemed to come with running commentary, and not the one he was used to. No shocked giggle, or besotted nuzzling.

Sex with Tony -nothing but a goddamn battle. Grasping, grabbing. Grunts and stuff that made him laugh at the odd moment. "C'mon, soldier, show me why Uncle Sam went into fifty years of widow's weeds when you - oh my. Is that all for me?"

"Fuck you, Tony."

"I... thought this was the plan?"

Oh yeah,Steve laughed, it was.

At the end of it, Steve stirred, throwing his arm across the carpet- and Tony, already sitting up. His cancer now in remission, Tony had gained weight - even with alcohol-more along the line of muscle and sinew. He didn't look in danger of death any more, the hollows in his face filling out, and him looking less worn. Naked, with a dark arrow of hair inching from navel to the hollows of his thighs, blocking the now spent member that Steve had had his way with.

"You're up?" Steve asked, slowly wagging his fingers, with Tony just out of reach. He wanted to trace patterns on Tony's skin, to see if he'd goosebump with a touch. Sex was - nothing compared to sex. But cuddling, to feel grounded and no so alone- the best part.

"It's sex- good sex, I'll grant you that. But still sex, Steve. Not a marathon. Besides-" Tony shifted to his feet, grabbing his robe and punching his fists through the sleeves. "I have a conference call to China in the next three hours."

"There's always daylight somewhere."

"Yes," Tony's eyes softened for a bit, before he moved to the bathroom. "Always."

oOo

 

Steve had a plan. Probably the reason why Tony didn't cuddle might have been the fact that he didn't get tired enough. Or not at all. Probably, if they had sex until Tony said when - he'd get cuddles after sex.

But again, Tony made a federal case out of things.

"Sex, again?" Tony raised an eyebrow. They were in the laundermat below the kitchen - away from the help. "Not that I'm not flattered, but-"

"Are you seeing someone?" Steve inched away. "I thought that you and Carol-"

"She's lovely, absolutely fascinating- but no, that ran its course sometime ago."

"Oh?" Steve replied.

"Oh." Tony repeated. "She made me want to be a better man - I honestly couldn't keep up with my nobler intentions. So."

"I don't really care what sort of man you are."

"I get that."

"So-?"

"So?" Tony asked, even as Steve grabbed Tony's hand and pressed his palm flat against his groin.

"Do I need to..." he scowled. "Give you an invitation?"

"It would be nice," Tony stepped into Steve's space, his breath ghosting across Steve's cheek and ear. "On heavy bonded paper, _Smythson's_ would be ideal. There's nothing quite like an invite in the post."

"I'll send it to you in the mail." Steve grabbed Tony's shirt, and took him down. The sheets and clothing cushioned their fall, and Steve hauled Tony against him. The second time around, they knew which buttons to push. Him licking his way into Tony's mouth, his knee nudging against Tony's thighs, as he reached into his pockets for lube and condoms.

"Someone's prepared."

"Boy scout," Steve said between kisses."You weren't interested in cookies, remember?"

"Hmmm."

***

 

Steve briefly closed his eyes, catching his breath. He - no, they- truly got ahead of themselves this time.

He felt Tony move on their makeshift bed of half sheets and clothing. Steve opened his hand, spread his arm; a tacit motion of Tony to come right here and cuddle. He turned towards his companion, only to see Tony lifting a a frothy lacey bit of stuff from his face.

"Yours?"

"No,"Steve said, biting his lips because his cheeks were burning. "Uhhh... no."

"Too bad. It would be interesting to see how you'd go." Tony's fingers rubbed against the gusset of panties. "Oh, well."

With that, Tony was up, picking up his clothing. He scanned the room for his tie, and chuckled, giving it up for lost.

"Tony." Steve said, not wanting to do something so obvious as to pat the space beside him. Tony looked up, half buttoning his shirt, his legs - save his underwear on- inside and out- bare.

"Steve?"

And Steve's fingers formed into a fist as he thumped the space beside him.

"Nothing at all," Steve shook his head. "Nothing at all."

"All right," Tony nodded, and Steve folded his arms under his head and stared at the ceiling.

Part II

"Hey," Clint came into the room and threw a package at Steve. "For you."

"Thanks." Steve caught the package in mid toss, and tore it open. Not surprised to see the sleek box, before opening it to see tissue paper and ribbon. Kept on going, before his hands lit on the envelopes and matching cards.

Steve supposed that Tony would have found the presentation to his taste - cards set in neat lines, with a politely phrased note of thank you and a bill coming up to three hundred dollars worth of invitations.

"Hey, who's throwing a baby shower?" Clint asked, and as much as Steve might have bristled at the question, Clint's amusement made the needling on this side of bearable.

"Invitations for July 04th celebrations."

" _Okayyy_." Clint grinned, and Steve gathered the boxes and left Clint there, shaking his head.

 _We request the pleasure of your company_ , the invite read. Tony almost bit off his tongue because it wouldn't do to laugh when Pepper was in lecture mode.

"Tony, you need to start accepting invites. Ever since your brother has roared into town, he's been pressing the flesh, with some degree of success. New York isn't just your stomping ground anymore."

"Gregory? He's a bit of cold fish, I can't imagine people inviting him anywhere."

"He's being invited to various parties," Pepper's hands gesticulated as she made her point. "Trust me."

"I can't imagine them asking him _back_."

"He's being courted to be a trustee of the Met. So you need to start accepting invitations Tony- the ones that matter, that is."

Tony fingered the small, ivory coloured invite. Heavy paper, cursive script, and he knew the brand.

"All right, I acquiesce to your demands, Pepper. I'm open for invites."

"Thank God!" Pepper dramatically raised her hands to the heavens. "Yes!"

"Beginning tomorrow."

" _Tony_."

oOo

 

"When I think about invites," Tony said later, as soon as Steve opened the door to his apartment. "I had thoughts about the Met. Dinner and a movie, at least."

Steve waved Tony in, closed the door with a click, before he leaned against it and looked at Tony.

Tony, normally a smart dresser, went ultra formal tonight. Black tux, with sleek lines, and shiny shoes. The fine silk of the material making the suit look like freshly laid tarmac, the white scarf around his shoulders dazzling like fresh snow. Tony looked as brand new as a Sunday morning.

"I can promise you dinner, there's a good Chinese that delivers. I spent all my money on the invites."

" _Que sera sera_ ," Tony shrugged. "Pepper ordered me to say 'yes' to invites."

"Yeah?" Steve walked across the room, to stand right in front of Tony.

"Oh yes. It was a toss up; you or the Met."

Steve grabbed the lapels of Tony's jacket, as he gently thumbed the lapels, the silk blend a smooth, cool surface under his fingers.

"Right. What edged matters in my favour?"

Tony conjured the invitation out of thin air. "Not like magic," he said before Steve even thought about it. "Like the quickness of an eye, but not magic. If you must know, quality paper makes the difference."

"Okay," Steve agreed as he grabbed the ends of Tony's silk scarf with one hand. "Can we use this?"

***

 

Steve stirred, only to find Tony's head against his chest, their bodies sticky and spent. He smiled, only for it to become a frown as Tony began to shift.

"No, stay," he said, only for Tony to raise his head and look at Steve.

"Come again?"

"Stay," Steve touched Tony's shoulder. "Just stay."

Tony shifted along Steve's body, Tony's skin and hair, not a shock now, as much as adjustment.

"Steve."

"Please."

Tony's lips twitched and he smiled. "Okay," he finally said. "You only had to ask."

"Says the man who go me to spend three hundred dollars on invitations."

"Oh, do tell."

"Not now," Steve skimmed the tips of his finger along Tony's shoulders and sighed when Tony relaxed into him. "Just stay."

Fin.


End file.
